


Burning.

by AnnaHolt



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Burns, Crying, Hearing Voices, Heavy Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2021-01-15 16:28:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21256319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnaHolt/pseuds/AnnaHolt
Summary: [Destiel One Shot]-Cas is dead, and it's my fault.-





	Burning.

**Author's Note:**

> I cried writing this and I hope you all like it as much as I do.

Song suggestion: The Beach (slowed down) - The Neighborhood

**Gettysburg, Pennsylvania**

The cold air of the night made is way inside Dean's clothes making him shiver, memories of old nights coming back into his mind. Of light touches, of lips and hands, whimpers and broken breaths; of whispered truth in the late night, scared, because truth can kill, can destroy. _Because truth is more evil than any creature they ever killed,_ even more evil than Lucifer.

Hands to hold the shovel, fingers to freeze, a broken torch to light up the path; the place beside him now is empty, the ghost of someone who is gone is the only thing that's left of something that once was and now is nothing more than a little and empty hope. Hope that he would come back, hope that he could hear _his_ voice call him and ask stupid questions, waiting for a touch and a presence that he would never have again.

Noises come from the bushes, shadows broken by the light of the moon, _the moon_, the same moon he created in the great plan of God. The moon who resembled his big blue eyes and him, the moon who he thought was nothing more than a stupid creation but that Dean loved, _oh loved so much_; loved since he was four years old, the moon that Dean watched after mom's death, _dreaming of a place he could call home._

_He_, who more than anyone else deserved to see the beauty of the world, to enjoy life and see the greatness of his creation, to dream and laugh and _love_... he who died to save a human, a weak and stupid human.

**He who died to save Dean Winchester.**

Breath to break, _oh how hard it is to breath now_, now that every memory brings him back, his black hair and those deep blue eyes. His laugh and that kind smile he reserved for him, _only for Dean_; the way he tried to do the best thing, he tried to love even if he didn't know how. The way he looked at Dean when he thought no one was watching... that look full of affection and _love_.

Oh, _how hard it is to breath now_, now that everything reminds him of the angel but nothing really does; because nothing could ever replace him, **never.**

Oh, _how hard it is to breath now_, not that his angel's existence is nothing but a memory in the mind of a human, _a weak and stupid human who would not deserve such memories._

**"You are dead to me."**

Heat, an unbearable heat moves through his body reaching his heart, _and it catches fire_. It starts to burn, his lungs caught by the fire inside him, burning, searching for air that they couldn't find. The fire to burn him alive. 

**It burns.**

**And it can't be stopped.**

**It burns.**

**And nothing can shut it down.**

**Because he isn't here.**

**He isn't here.**

**And Dean is alone.**

**Forever.**

And then steps, loud steps to resound in an echo inside his head, so close but so far. 

_ This is what you wanted after all, am I right? _

_ You wanted me dead. _

_ Here I am! _

_ You never wanted to have anything to do with me.  _

**It's not true.**

_ You killed me. _

**Please...**

_ I was dead since the first time I laid a hand on you in Hell. _

_ I should have never trusted you. _

_ I should have never betrayed Heaven for you. _

_ You killed me. _

_ I am dead because of you. _

_ You killed me, Dean Winchester. _

**STOP IT.**

And the burning inside him grows, it grows and grows and grows until it's too much. 

It's like Hell is trying to bring him down, to hurt him, to take back what is his and bring it were it should be. Like every dammed soul is trying to catch his soul, take it, rip it apart, **destroying it **_as if he didn't matter._

_ But you don't matter. _

_ How could I trusted a stupid human like you. _

**This is not you, Cas, this is not you.**

_ You are right, I am dead. _

_ All because of you. _

And Hell seems a good place now, everything, everything would be less painful than hear this, _even selling his body to Micheal would be easier._

"Dean!" Two hands to hold him still, strong hands as strong as the eyes that are now looking at him, searching for a sign, a answer to so many questions.

Dean had forget how it was difficult to breath, how the fire inside him was killing him, how that pain and sorrow was tormenting him, the voices inside his head getting louder, echoing thoughts he already had.

_"Castiel is dead."_

And the truth come out with such violence that it made him break, tears streaming down his face moving on his flesh, so cold and wet outside but so warm, incredible warm, inside. The same truth that he had ignored and pushed back since he watched the man he loved burn, since he set the fire, **since he said him goodbye.**

_ **It burns.** _

_ ** Please help me. ** _

_ **It burns.** _

_ ** Please kill me. ** _

_ I can't. _

** _Then what's the point in living?_ **

_"And it's all my fault."_


End file.
